A glass of wine stands before you. You smell it, taking in the rich bouquet. You hold it up to the light, appreciating its deep burgundy colour. You swirl it around and look at the tears slowly dripping from the sides. You don’t know what the tears tell you exactly about the vintage, of course, you are but a simple man, but even you can appreciate the poetry in your wine weeping its red tears for you, after all it could be your glass that contains the deadly poison.

You down it in one gulp and close your eyes.

After a few seconds of blood chilling fear, you hear a gargling sound and the thump of a falling body. You look up and see the old man, Karl, sprawled on the floor next to you – you survived the round, just 2 others remain.

You look at the faces of your companions and you can scarce believe that just a few hours ago you were laughing and joking as you were looking for game in Graf Von Alschen’s woods. A mistake that could well turn out to be your last, for a poachers life is forfeit in these lands, and Von Alschen is a man cruel like no other. His reputation proved true when he caught you and put you to this twisted game. To your left you see Dietrich, a beast of a man, looks like he might crush his glass in his hand any moment. On the right, Lars even now holds that self-assured smile, as if life is a private joke.

Von Alschen, sitting at the far end of the table raises his voice: “Isn’t this lovely, my boys, you are one step closer to your lordly pardon! More than poachers like you deserve. Just so your meek little brains have not forgotten, the rules are such: you,” he points to you “will get a vial of poison, the rest will leave and be free to talk in the antechamber. You may put the poison in any cup, they will be filled with wine again. Then you leave and you,” he points at Dietrich “enter, and may switch cups as it please you. Finally the last of you will enter and do the same. Then we toast to the dead again, and then we play again, until but one of you lives. Come now, my little worms, let us let the poor man think.” With that they depart the room, leaving you at a table with a vial of poison, and 3 cups in front of you.